| Adagio- Written by Rube |
| These characters are not owned by me, and I do not seek profit from using their names/situations. Adagio- 1 of 1 Clarice dangled her hand over the water of her steaming bathtub and gently played her fingertips over it, parting the water and causing small ripples to form. She sighed and sunk deeper in the water, tired of this game, and the lapping bathwater dampened her upswept hair. She saw the tips of her scarlet painted toe nails and wriggled them, shaking her head irreverently when she realized how foolish it looked. Albinoni�s �Adagio� drifted into the bathroom from the piano Hannibal played in their bedroom. She closed her eyes the music and lifted her left hand out of the water to let it hang over the side of the tub. The water dried from her limb quickly and the air felt cool against her skin. It was late afternoon, and the waning sunlight streamed in their suit in rays of butter-colored warmth. If Clarice were to open her eyes, she could have seen the legs of the piano bench and her husbands own long legs and feet playing their part of the music piece. As if she that very thought had crossed her mind, the faintest of smiles crossed her lips. Earlier in the day, they had gone out shopping and Lecter had purchased for her two scatteringly beaded scarves from the west of France. She had loved them- both dark in color and silky to the touch, the beads offering themselves as pleasant little bumps. He had taught her to love things like this; small tenders to her heart. He knew he could never buy her affection, but she supposed some part of him thought this might help his case. �Adagio� ended on a faint note and not three seconds after, Hannibal struck up �Canon in D�, composed by Pachelbel. This was another one of her favorites, and he had been recently trying to teach her to play it. She had little psychical talent for music, but had a good ear. It was the same with the speaking of different languages. It was intricately difficult for her to speak in them but she understood perfectly. Clarice could feel her skin starting to prickle and hoisted herself out of the tub without further delay. Hannibal noticed and ceased playing exactly four minutes and fifty-one seconds into the song. The silence was strange when just moments ago, music had been humming through the rooms. She wrapped herself in a large terry towel and took down her hair. It fell in blonde-ish waves around her shoulders. Her husband looked at her long and hard, mouth slightly parted, tongue just visible behind his teeth. She smiled at him and his eyes burned into hers, making her hesitate to move. He was swiveled on the piano bench so his legs were tangled awkwardly in the left hand side legs of the stool. She saw his delicate coffee cup, still full, on the table next to the Wurlitzer piano. He did something to surprise her; he stood. He stood quickly, knocking the liquid-filled coffee cup to the floor. Clarice winced, knowing that it would leave a stain that no amount of scrubbing would get out, but Hannibal paid the spillage no heed. He advanced towards her, circling her like a bird of pray, hands at his sides. Clarice knew she ought not to be afraid but couldn�t help the shiver that ran through her. Lecter must have noticed because he stopped pacing and stood still, head titled to the side, with an expression of apology. She did not move and neither did he. Clarice�s breath wedged in her throat, and she shivered again, this time from the cold. Hannibal moved again, but this time even closer to her, not pacing around in a circle of predatory meaning. She wanted to move, to get dressed, but found that her feet were glued to the spot. Clarice took in a series of quick little breaths as her husbands hand reached for her soft shoulder. It clamped down, finally, after a long suspended minute. Clarice wanted to whisper his name, but was afraid of what it might do to him. He wasn�t Hannibal right now; he was something entirely different, a being without a name. Slowly, she placed her firm hand on top of his on her shoulder, and he bent forward and kissed it. Do I know who you are anymore, she wondered to herself in silence as she gazed at the top of his head. Turn page to next part of story.... |